Garden
by TheFireMeltsTheIce
Summary: Zutara Month; day 4; prompt: garden. "Zuko and Katara shared a constellation of conversations. They'd talk about anything from existential theories to what the menu was for dinner that evening. That what was made their relationship so cherished, so special, they could confide in anything and everything…"


Zuko and Katara shared a constellation of conversations. They'd talk about anything from existential theories to what the menu was for dinner that evening. That what was made their relationship so cherished, so special, they could confide in anything and everything: dismal downfalls to terrific triumphs. They liked to talk as they strolled together through the palace exterior, and when spring rolled around, the flowers would bloom, and set a picturesque ambiance seldom matched by another. It smelled fresh, and it felt heavenly; to fully complete the pastrol picture, they had one another, hand-in-hand.

However, every year Zuko would glumly note that the garden was lacking. Katara was always awestruck by the garden's immaculateness, being from an area where everything was so bitterly cold, nothing could grow, so she questioned him every year, but he'd typically and annually shoo it away as a weird intuition. This year, as they sat under a blossoming cherry tree, on a carved, intricately decorated, wooden bench, swaying their legs back and forth, Zuko sighed and came clean.

"They don't plant hibiscus anymore," Zuko abruptly stated, leaning his hand against the armrest, his head in his hand.

"You like hibiscus?" Katara asked curiously, peaking her head out to meet his gaze. He sighed.

"Yeah…" he muttered brusquely.

"Why don't you ask the palace gardeners to plant some, then?" Katara suggested, then smirked. "What? Flowers aren't manly enough for the fire lord?" She teased, elbowing his side lightly. But, as he kept the downtrodden demeanor, her expression shifted in concern. She cupped his cheek, forcing his gaze to hers.

"I don't— I don't have time," he gave his stupid alibi.

"I'll ask if you want, Zuko," Katara offered, giving him a comforting smile.

"No, it's not the same," shouted Zuko tersely and ambiguously, pushing her away, as she then grew cross.

"I'm only trying to help!" Katara angrily retorted, but huffed and then frowned. "Zuko, they're just flowers… Or are they? What's wrong?" she pushed, her hand running down his leg to rest on his knee. He averted his stare and began to speak.

"My mother adored them," Zuko finally opened up, speaking softly. "She'd always bring me out here, and she'd pick the hibiscus, and put them in her hair. No one ever had to ask, it was just done, and I don't— I guess I'm weird, I just— I want it to mean something if they're planted. I want it to be done— for _her_."

Katara moved her hand to clasp his. "Zuko, you could have told me, I understand," she stated, leaning in towards him. And, she did, she'd lost her mother, she knew how these little semblances meant everything, and how everything ached if not carried out, but how it ached if it was as well.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Katara urged, nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder, the gentle breeze carrying their words through the evening.

At the moment, Katara decided to herself that she was going to plant the garden full of hibiscuses. She was going to do it herself. Like Zuko said, he needed it to mean something. So while the fire lord busied himself in paperwork and council meetings, the future fire lady went to work amidst the soil and seeds, planting each row of flowers with care, and a smile on her face in anticipation for her fiancé's. After several weeks, the palace garden was bursting with life, more notably, hibiscuses.

Katara prided herself with her work, and grinned as she overviewed the complete masterpiece. She could not wait to show Zuko. She swiftly scurried into his office, tugging at the sleeves of his robes urgently as he groaned. She put her hands over his eyes as they got closer outside.

"No peeking!" Katara demanded as Zuko mumbled incoherently again. Then they were there, right before the gorgeous scenery of the field of hibiscuses, planted in decorated rows, strategically aligned for aesthetics. She saw the creases on her fiancé's lips curve as he took a whiff of the air, the aroma stimulating memories. Katara removed her hands that worked as blindfolds.

"Okay, go ahead, look," Katara prompted, beaming from ear-to-ear, as Zuko soon emulated her action.

"Hibiscus," he muttered. "They're… everywhere… Katara, you didn't…?"

"I did. And, I planted them all myself," she boasted, gripping his arm, and smiling up at him. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? I-I love it! I-I love you!" Zuko exclaimed, tilting her head into a sweet kiss, his eyes watering slightly. "My mother would have loved it," he noted.

"Good, I'm glad. I did it for you, but I also did it for her… She saved the thing that means most to me," Katara teased, her finger trailing his arm as they both smiled. "Come on, let's go for another walk," Katara urged, pulling him along as he nodded. They both knew that there'd be many more afternoons of laughter shared in the hibiscus-covered garden.


End file.
